Your Humble Scribe

Sunday, July 23, 2006

Meditations on tool use.

Gentleman needs to make a phone call, and upon finding his cell-phone discharged, he stops at a Stab-and-Grab to use their outside pay-phone.During the course of his conversation, he is approached by a Socially Disadvantaged Youth, who proceeds to threaten him with a empty bottle of cheap hooch, while demanding the contents of his wallet.The gentleman -- now the victim -- being well-schooled by the Liberal Media and Little Sarah "One-Note" Brady, immediately hands over said wallet.Unfortunately, the wallet did not have enough money contained therein to purchase a sufficient quantity of the recreational pharmaceutical of the critters's choice, so the critter crashed the empty bottle into the victim's temple.Unlike what you see in Hollywood, the bottle did not break. It did, however, concuss the victim enough to drop him unconscious to the deck, where the critter proceeded to vigorously apply his hundred-dollar set of athletic shoes to the prostrate, helpless victim until such time as he grew bored, and sauntered off.The victim suffered a concussion, a broken jaw and some broken ribs, but he did survive, in such I would guess that he is lucky.Even more lucky is the critter.Each person on this little green dirtball only truly has one weapon. One only.You can take a knife -- a sword -- a pistol -- or even a tactical nuclear device and none of them are weapons until the wielder of such has the will to use them as such.There is a snub-nosed Ruger .357 revolver sitting on my desk as I write this. That revolver is not going to do a thing until I use it. It will not save my life, it will not save a third parties life, it will not fire a shot until I make the decision to use it to do so.My mind, your mind -- that is the only true weapon. Everything else is merely a tool, waiting to be utilized in the fashion that you or I or anyone else chooses.Unfortunately, a large part of our population does not, can not, and will not understand the whole of this concept.A large part of our population apparently believes that tools such as knives and firearms are possessed of wills of their own, seeking only to go forth and wreak destruction in obedience to some unnatural will, and thus must be legislated and controlled out of existence for The Safety of All.These folks are dangerous to every thinking person on this world, but are beneath contempt and will not be discussed at this time.Others of our population apparently believe that only dedicated tools can be used as a weapon. They are willing to fight when necessary, but only with firearms, or blades. Or with specialized equipment.These folks have a dangerous weak spot. They will fight, but if they are deprived of his dedicated tool -- either by happenstance or by legislation -- they become lost, because they have either forgotten, or have never known, that the mind is the only weapon.I do not know whether the victim thought that guns, knives, etc., were evil and refused to carry them, or if he felt that he was not allowed his customary tools, and without them, was helpless.I do know that the attacker -- the critter -- plainly understood that his mind was the weapon. He understood that a tool used to carry liquid (the wine bottle) could easily be utilized to attack, if he chose.Why was the critter so lucky?A score of years ago, there was a young man who was a visitor and a stranger to a certain big city. The name and location of this city are not important, what is important is that the people in this city believed -- or had been convinced -- that certain tools were dangerous. Dangerous, apparently, all of their own volition, and thus had arranged to forbid useful knives and firearms -- even going so far as to ban the mere possession of ammunition without a firearm -- for The Safety Of All.Pfagh.This young man, as young men will, enjoyed the company of young women, and on this certain occasion escorted a young woman to her home. On this evening, our young man left the home of this lady long after the taxicab that had brought them had departed.Being youthful, our gentleman decided to walk for a bit, to enjoy the air, so to speak, before seeking a taxi to take him home.Having walked, our young man found a pay-phone and engaged to call a taxi company, when he was approached by a Socially Disadvantaged Youth, who proceeded to produce a cheap flea-market folding knife and demand the wallet of our young man.This young man, unlike the gentleman of the beginning of this rumination, ripped the handset and cable from the body of the phone, and then still gripping the handset, whipped the torn end of the dangling metal cable across the face of the critter as hard and as fast as he could, splitting the flesh to the bone.Using no technique other than that imparted by bloody red fury, the young man lashed the critter twice more across the face and shielding arm with the metal cable before the savagely injured critter managed to flee.Anything you have is a tool. How you use that tool is up to that weapon between your ears.Had the first gentleman in the story known this, understood this, and accepted this, it is likely that his attacker would be seriously injured, maimed, or dead now.Which is the only proper and correct response to brigandage in a sane and just world.*sigh*

18 comments:

A weapon, according to Webster's, is a device of any kind used to maim, injure, or kill. It could be a gun, knife, missile, club, brick, bottle, pencil, hand, foot, or even a fluffy kitten.

So long as the person who wields it has the will to use anything at hand to harm another person, pure cussed willpower is what will carry the day. Maybe that person will be a criminal, maybe that person will be the intended victim.

You're only disarmed when they have chopped off your arms and legs and have cut out your tongue.

In a society exposed to the "Indoctrination" of Gov't, Brady&Kin, MSM - some life skills are not being, learned, musch less passed forward.

New definitions for "Strategy" and "Tactics" compound the problem; nothing wrong with a well crafted firearm, edged weapon, or cane.

As you shared, sometimes TPTB restrict one from having anything defined as a "defensive" weapon; much less one "tactical" and for sure "uberTacticol".

Only tool I am assured of having 24/7/365 is my brain. The will to survive is etched deep within me.

Being as this Blog is on the Internet, this means Global, reaching such readers not only in the US also the UK. Folks in some areas of the US are as restricted as our like minded friends in the UK.

I do not "need" a cane, but I use one. Oh years ago I had a need for one after double knee surgery, today , being over 50, knees better than when I was younger - some recall the old days of my knees popping and carrying on...

...I have to be places where TPTB say one cannot have a weapon, sometimes even a metal detector.

Currently using a $10 Rosewood from the drug store, it winked at me.

I have used others, "used" meaning something other than assisting my walking. I have had better made ones, and I know about ones being "tools for the task".

I still think Soda, water, and tea taste better from a glass too...metal detectors don't go off when these pass thru either.

It is not the passing thru that concerns me - it is getting from vehicle and back again from the detector.

I was only so big when a Mentor used one of "my" soda bottles to teach me something. I was gonna get 2 cents for that bottle at the store for cashing it in, done retreived it from a ditch, and washed it out too.

Burlap bag filled with something too many years ago to recall, recall the lessons though.

Mentors cane was too big, the principles were not. Then "My" bottle, and then the last lessons were when the neck "fell off" that bottle and he was holding it by the base, stuff started to fall out of the burlap...then the rope cut loose...

I may have missed out on getting 2 cents, I got a whole lot more in return for not cashing in that bottle.

Well put - your social philosophy is shockingly rare in these days, and yet it is clearly correct to any logical person. Perhaps we simply lack a majority of Logical Person. That wouldn't surprise me at all.

My brother, while enjoying a leave from Coast Guard boot camp, went to New York City for a visit.

While walking down a street, he was approached by a "disadvantaged youth" that asked for money. My brother informed the young man he didn't have any money for him. When the young man pushed his gun/finger into the pocket of his windbreaker and said: "What if I told you I have a gun?" My brother replied: "I would take it from you and stick it up your a@@."

The young man said: "I was just kidding" and beat a hasty retreat in search of a new victim.

"A large part of our population apparently believes that tools such as knives and firearms are possessed of wills of their own, seeking only to go forth and wreak destruction in obedience to some unnatural will, and thus must be legislated and controlled out of existence for The Safety of All."

It's actually worse than that. They think that the presence of weapons makes people violent, as though (as one writer put it) possessing a weapon would eat away at their sanity "as though it was emitting lethal radiation." The only answer, then, is to make government act as parent, and prevent them from possessing weapons.

And, since they can't trust themselves around lethal instruments, obviously they can't trust you either.

Thus they "must be legislated and controlled out of existence for The Safety of All."

Except for Authorized Agents of the State, who are protected against the "lethal radiation" by their government paychecks.

Recently a young man with a 12-gauge shotgun found himself outgunned by an 84-year-old with a cane. Here's the link: http://www.click2houston.com/news/9576365/detail.html

Not only did the would-be mugger not get away with the money he demanded, he ended up leaving the shotgun behind.

Yeah. Here's an approximate quote from "Starship Troopers"--the book, not the movie: In Camp Curry, they were giving the recruits lessons on primitive weapons such as knives, sticks, and improvisations with wire. One recruit complained about spending time with such primitive weapons when they were going to carry such incredible firepower. Now you have to know that in the book, the troopers fought in powered armor, carrying several hundred pounds of explosives, incendiaries, energy weapons, and the like. The seargeant gave the recruit a pitying look. "There are no dangerous weapons," he told the recruit. "Only dangerous men. We aim to make you into dangerous men. Deadly as long as you are conscious and have even one hand you can use."

Another example: The Masai of Africa. Renowned as some of the most dangerous warriors the human race has EVER seen. I don't know how far their culture might have been changed by now, but I understand that in the middle 1970s it was mostly still intact. I have read that while most of Africa had its wildlife seriously depleted by poachers, it was still abundant in Masailand. You see, the Masai religion had them treat cattle as wealth, and in return, not hunt wild animals for food. And as for poachers, it was not that the Masai were all that sentimental about wildlife. It's just that armed men sneaking around in their country were regarded as potential cattle thieves, and not to be tolerated. So the poachers stayed away.

Now the interesting detail is that the Masai watched their cattle in small groups, rarely more than three, and were armed with their traditional spears and knives (More like big machetes than your kitchen knife, folks). The poachers had modern assault weapons and often were in groups of more than a dozen.

The poachers stayed away from Masailand. Trust me. They were outgunned and they knew it.

Once in the 1950's, an island colony of England (long since independent) had trouble with riots. These were the orchestrated kind of riots, where rioters were gathered in the thousands and sent through the heart of the city every day sometime around 10:30. The island appealed to England for help. So England flew in troops. One platoon. That's 14 soldiers and one officer. You see, these were Gurkhas. So one fine day around 10:30, a mob of about 5,000 headed into the downtown area of the capital. A single thin line of tiny brown men in British khaki barred their way. The mob roarded its fury and charged. When they got close enough, their officer gave the Gurhkas an order.

They left their rifles slung on their backs, and drew their kukris. You know, the legendary Gurkha knife. They stood their grinning joyfully at the mob ("Oh look! There's enough for all of us!"). The mob all decided to disperse and go home for coffee or something. They were outnumbered and they knew it.

I could go on. But there are examples from all over the world and from throughout history. And the point is so very important.

During World War II, there are at least two docomented instances of one Gurkha "...diving down the hatch of an enemy tank and scraping the inside clean of Germans with his kukri." (From a book called, guess what, "Ghurka".)

Finally: I knew a young lady who made the mistake of opening her door in Inglewood, California, late at night when someone knocked. She was literally just in from the Midwest. A man immediately shoved the muzzle of a carbine into her face and began his threat riff. She instantly grabbed the carbine with all her strength and wrenched it away from him. He was totally taken by surprise. Without any pause she hit him in the face with the stock, again with all her strength and weight. She never described to me what it did to his face. She did say that when the police arrived (45 minutes later), he was still lying on her front step in exactly the position he fell.

My children will be raised knowing this. I will teach them a weapon is whatever they can get their grubby little hands on , from a gun to a sword to a brick to a dishrag (you can disarm a man with a dishrag and then choke the bastard). I learned this too late to avoid being victimized by bullies and punks, but my children will not be so disadvantaged.

I am reminded of the rainy night that a would-be mugger approached me with his dollar-store switchblade.

Alas, for him, he immediately found himself with a face full of six-dollar umbrella. As he took a step back, blinded and disoriented (and, hopefully, the proud new owner of a broken nose), I promptly separated him from his puny pointing stick.

A friend of mine was apporached on his doorstep. The mugger threatened him. My friend was shot in the shoulder, but prevailed. Then he called the police. "What direction did he go?" "He's right here." The mugger was still unconscious when the police arrived.